


memories swept out into the ocean (while the tidal wave crashes in)

by orphan_account



Series: Modern Kubo AU [1]
Category: Kubo and the Two Strings (2016)
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Established Relationship, F/M, Flashbacks, Idealism, Past Child Abuse, Please read the author's notes before proceeding, References to Canon, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 02:25:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8559727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Each scar tells a story—and this one tells the story of a woman who survived.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place a year before "stay with me tonight (don't go)."
> 
> Fair warning: there is past emotional/psychological/verbal abuse in regards to idealism in one of the character's background. It isn't _too_ graphic, but still, please read with caution. Thanks.
> 
> Again, I'd like to thank Nico for helping me with this.

There are times where Hanzo doesn’t catch onto things that quickly and there are times where he does.

For example, years ago—back in middle school—Sariatu had come in with a scar over her right eye, her hair slightly frizzy, and her eyes red and puffy. Hanzo had immediately noticed the scar, but he chose not to say anything, since the two weren’t exactly on good terms back then. However, he could never forget how anxious she had looked, and how all of the other kids had talked about it.

But that’s all in the past—this is the present.

 

* * *

 

It’s been weeks since they’ve been married, though it feels as if it was only yesterday that both had recited their vows to one another, exchanged rings, shared a kiss and left the chapel—hands clasped, ready to live out the rest of their lives as one.

Warmth rushes through Hanzo’s body as he remembers it all—and he twists his ring a little, watching as it shines in the light. He still can’t believe that it happened—he still can’t believe that he’s _finally married,_ but he knows that it wasn’t a dream. It was real—and this is real, too.

But there are other things that he remembers—things that don’t make the feeling of warmth rush through his body. He remembers how cold Sariatu’s hands had felt the first time he held them—it was like touching ice. He remembers how he’d shivered a little, before he’d eventually start rubbing his hand against hers as an attempt to warm them up. He remembers how upset she was when she learned of the truth—that her father was anything but an honest man. He remembers how he’d wiped away her tears, and she’d leaned against him and said, “Thank you for telling me this,” and “I am so, so sorry…”

Hanzo closes his eyes and tries to push that thought into the back of his head. That was in the past, and this is the present. Everything’s fine, now—everything is fine…well, he wants to believe that everything is fine, but there is one thought that he can’t push into the back of his mind—a thought that fills him with curiosity and unease every time he looks at her.

A thought that he eventually says out loud when she’s around, “I’ve been thinking… you’ve had that scar for years now—and yet, during the time we’ve spent together, you’ve never really explained how you got it.”

Sariatu’s body freezes and she doesn’t say a word. For her, it feels as if time has stopped—and that’s where the memories come back.

 

* * *

 

_It happens during a weekend at the beach. Her family goes there during the night, when it’s more calm and quiet._

_Yukami and Karasu run around, chasing the birds while Raiden sits on a rock, watching over his younger daughters._

_Sariatu decides to go for a swim, and so she does. She swims far out into the ocean—to the deep end, where the moon shines upon the cool water and the seaweed brushes against her feet._

_The night sky is a comforting sight, and it reminds her of how her father would tell her stories back when she was a small child. It reminds her of the times where her father would play his shamisen, before promising her that one day, she would get her own shamisen and he’d teach her how to play it—it reminds her of the times where her father wasn’t focused on making the family “perfect.”_

_But as Sariatu looks up at the moon, she sees that it’s now covered by fog—and it’s at that moment where she hears the sound of a wave coming near. She turns around, but it’s too late, for the wave sweeps her underneath the water._

_She tries to move her body, but she can’t. The wave’s force is too much. Her body brushes past corals and seaweed, before she hits her head against a rock. Her vision begins to blur, and it’s a few minutes before she’s swept up onto the shore._

_“Sariatu!” she hears her father call out before everything turns black._

 

* * *

 

She snaps out of her thoughts as she hears Hanzo say, “I’m sorry, I…I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s—it’s fine,” she lies as she turns to her husband, but the tone of her voice begs to differ. “I’m fine.”

“…you don’t sound fine,” Hanzo remarks, noticing the tone of her voice.

“I’m fine, really,” Sariatu tries to reassure him. “Don’t worry about me.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he says, with a frown forming as his face, and his eyes filled with worry, “especially not right now. I’m really worried about you. The way you’re acting—the way your voice sounds… it sounds as if something’s not right.”

“There’s nothing wrong. Everything is _fine,_ ” Sariatu replies.

“If you say so,” Hanzo sighs. “But… please don’t keep things inside for too long, okay?”

“Okay.” Sariatu nods.

And for a while, she thinks that it’s true—that everything will be okay.

 

* * *

 

Nothing is okay—it is _never_ okay.

It’s during the night where Sariatu goes into the bathroom to wash up. When she’s done, she looks into the mirror and sees her own reflection.

Her scar is a reminder of the incident, and it reminds her that the past is real and that it happened and that there’s nothing she can do about it. Her white streak of hair reminds her of her father—the man who had raised her, and yet at the same time, betrayed her.

The memories come back again, and this time, the world feels as if it’s spinning.

 

* * *

 

_The doctor had said she’d be okay. She’d suffered some eye trauma, and was left with a scar over her right eye as a result—but she’d be okay and well enough to go back to school next week._

_The ride home is silent, minus Yukami and Karasu saying, “You’re in big trouble now.”_

_When the family arrives home, Yukami and Karasu are sent up to their rooms._

_Raiden has a displeased look on his face, and he doesn’t say a word at all—but words aren’t needed. Sariatu knows that her father is disappointed with her._

_So, she goes to her room and looks into the mirror. Her right eye is still sore, but it’s not swollen, at least._

_Then, she hears the sound of the door creaking open. She turns around and sees that it’s her father._

_“What were you thinking?” Raiden scolds. “Swimming that far out into the ocean? You could’ve drowned! Do you think that I wish to see my daughter washed up on shore, like a dead fish? I taught you to be responsible—and yet, you pull off a stunt like this!”_

_“I’m sorry, Father,” Sariatu apologizes. “I didn’t know that there would be a big wave—”_

_“You should’ve known better!” Raiden’s eyes narrow. His voice is raised slightly. “You know that the waves are stronger during the night – I’ve taught you this before! Were you not listening?”_

_Then, a thought crosses his mind. “How_ _am I supposed to go out into public now when my daughter has a scar over her right eye? How am I going to explain this?” And he gestures to her scar. “They’ll start whispering things, then there will be rumors, and then our family name will be ruined!”_

_Sariatu covers her ears and squeezes her eyes shut as her father continues to shout, hoping to block out the sound. She doesn’t like it when he raises his voice. Every time he raises his voice, the situation seems to get worse—and she knows that there’s no exceptions this time._

_Raiden stops once he notices that his daughter has her hands over her ears. He grabs his daughter’s arms and pulls them away from her ears. “Are you listening to me?” he asks in a harsh tone._

_Tears pour down Sariatu’s face as she sputters, “I’m sorry, Father! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I promise!” And she continues to repeat those words over and over. Her family was supposed to be perfect, and everything was fine until she ruined it. She’s afraid, now—afraid of being a disappointment to her family. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”_

_Raiden stops and lets go of her arms. His expression softens a little. “It’s okay,” he answers slowly. “But don’t do that again, alright?”_

_He then leaves the room, and Sariatu continues to sob._

_It’s a while before she stops crying, and she looks back at the mirror. Her hair is frizzy, and her eyes are red and puffy._

_She sniffles and goes to bed. As she pulls the covers over her body, she looks out the window. There’s no more fog, and the moon is shining once more._

 

* * *

 

Sariatu turns away from the mirror, and heads to the bedroom.

She sits down next to Hanzo, and begins to pull the covers over her body.

Hanzo notices how upset his wife looks. “Is something wrong?” he asks.

Sariatu’s lip quivers as tears threaten to spill. She knows she can’t hide the truth any longer—she knows she can’t hide her past, nor can she run from it. And so, she lets out a sob.

Hanzo immediately wraps his arms around her, as if it’s almost instinct. He lets her cry into his shoulder for a while. “I don’t know what this weight on your heart is right now,” he says, trying his best to comfort her, “and you have no obligation in telling me, but you are the strong woman that I married—and I know that whatever is on your mind, you’ll be strong enough to get past it.”

“I know I’m supposed to be strong and brave and I’m sorry,” Sariatu says. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to get through this because…” She takes a deep breath in before continuing, “Because wounds heal, but scars don’t. And these memories—I can’t forget. I just can’t.”

“Don’t say that,” Hanzo says, placing a hand on her cheek. “Whatever the source of your scar is, remember that the reason why scars don’t heal is to remind us of all the hard challenges life has put us through, and that we’re still alive and going forward. That’s why you are strong. You keep going, and you’ve never given up—at least, I’ve never seen you give up before.”

“But it’s not…it’s not from a challenge. It’s not from some trial, it’s from an event,” Sariatu explains. “This scar is connected with my family, and I can’t forget the day I got it.”

Hanzo pauses for a moment. “Sari, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he says slowly.

“What is it?” she asks.

This prompts him to continue. “I know your family is not…well, I don’t know how to describe it, but…is there at least one member of your family who you trust?” he asks. “You’ve…you’ve never talked to me about your mother.”

“That’s because…” Sariatu pauses for a moment, before saying, “Well, you see, my mother passed away when I was three years old—after giving birth to my sisters. She was nice, but…I never really knew her that much.”

“Well, the memories you have of her are nice, right?” Hanzo asks, a little curious. “From what I understand, at least.”

“From what I remember, yes,” Sariatu replies, nodding.

“Then what I want you to do is every time you have bad memories of your family, I want you to think of your mother,” Hanzo says. “I know it won’t solve your problems about your family, but sometimes seeing a good side of things helps a bit. Maybe seeing the good side of your family might help.”

“But I don’t remember her that much,” Sariatu replies, her voice shaking. “I don’t have as many memories as I do with my father—hell, I don’t even look like my mother! My hair may be the same color as hers, but I still have this white streak from my father’s side and—” She takes another deep breath in before exhaling. Then, she continues, “And I still have this scar, from a trip to the beach. I was foolish, and I swam in the water without even looking behind me to see if there were any waves, so I was swept under and I hit my head against a rock and…” She pauses for a few minutes. “You know the rest of the story. My father had been so cross with me.” She flinches as she remembers how he’d yelled at her. “You saw how I looked when I came back, weeks after that.

Which is another thing, I’m not—I’m not perfect. I’ll never be as perfect as my father expects me to be—as people expect me to be. I’ll never be as beautiful, or strong, or brave. Sure, I can act strong—but really, I’m just so weak.”

Hanzo frowns and he grabs her hands gently. “Sariatu, listen to me,” he says. “I don’t want you to tear yourself down like this—I _never_ want to see you tear yourself down like this ever again. I know your father was harsh with you when you were younger, but now you know how foolish he was to think that anyone can be perfect—which is pretty ironic since he’s far from being perfect himself.” Her eyes meet his, and he continues, “I don’t want the thought of a foolish man—or anyone’s—to make you feel as if you aren’t strong, brave or beautiful because those are the things I see when I look at you, and even when I looked at you back then.

To me, you are strong. I mean, not everyone would’ve been able to live through what you lived. And yes, you cry sometimes because of those events—and _yes,_ sometimes small things can remind you of painful things, but that’s normal. It doesn’t make you weak and I don’t want you to think that it does.”

There’s a look of disbelief on Sariatu’s face. “…you mean it?”

“Of course I do.” Hanzo squeezes her hand gently.

“You’re so… good to me,” Sariatu says slowly. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you – really, I don’t.”

“Sari, you deserved every good thing that happened in your life,” he tells her.

“But the way I acted back then,” she protests. “I said horrible things that I can’t take back… and yet, day after day, you still continue to choose me.”

“Maybe you’ve said some things and made mistakes, but that was years ago,” Hanzo points out. “You still gave me a chance now, didn’t you?”

Sariatu nods. “I did, because you opened up a new world for me.”

“I’m glad I did.” Hanzo smiles. His voice is soft, and it nearly causes her heart to skip a beat.

“But… did you actually think I was beautiful, strong and brave, all those years ago?” she asks quietly. A part of her finds it so hard to believe that he thought of her as such even back then, when the two were younger.

“Yeah, I mean,” Hanzo chuckles a bit. “I… didn’t know a lot about you back then, but that was the idea I had of you along with the few things I knew and heard about you, and by the way you looked, too. I’m glad these perceptions I had of you turned out to be true.”

“Even when I have _this,_ ” and Sariatu gestures to her scar, “you still think I’m beautiful?”

“Yes, because you still have your wonderful eyes, your sweet-looking hair and your beautiful face,” Hanzo answers. “ _And_ you’re beautiful on the inside, too. In my eyes, that scar didn’t change you.”

“But I still—I still have this white streak of hair,” Sariatu points out, “and I _know_ it’s from his side.”

Hanzo stops for a moment and gently brushes his hand against Sariatu’s hair, taking the white strand of hair in his hand. “See it this way: you and him might have the same blood, but you still grew differently. Same thing for this hair—you might have gotten it from him, but it doesn’t change the wonderful person you are.”

“But I listened to him, though,” Sariatu says, frowning a little. “I listened to his lies and almost went down his path.”

“Well, the good thing is that you’ve decided to follow your own path,” Hanzo hums.

“It’s all thanks to you, though,” Sariatu remarks.

“Not entirely, though.” Hanzo shakes his head. “We wouldn’t be where we are right now had you not accepted to go on that date with me. I asked, and you accepted—so, let’s just say we both had something to do with it.”

“That sounds about right,” Sariatu mumbles. She then squeezes his hand, and a feeling of warmth rushes through her body as she entwines her fingers with his. “Thank you, though. You’re so wonderful and… and I never thought I’d get to experience happiness or something as great as this in my entire life.”

“Me neither, to be honest,” he admits. “I’m just glad I have someone like you in my life.”

“And I am, too.”

Both wrap their arms around each other in a warm, tight embrace.

 

* * *

 

The past still happened. There’s still some memories of it, but she now knows that behind her scar is a story—a story of how she survived. She knows that she’s free now. She knows that with the bad memories come good memories. She knows that none of her scars can make him love her less.


End file.
